


For Ye Are Yet Carnal

by zubeneschamali



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Possession, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27985653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zubeneschamali/pseuds/zubeneschamali
Summary: Season 14 fic, written for spn_masquerade. Michael has broken out of Dean's mental storeroom, and Sam has one last desperate shot at getting Dean back: offer himself up to Michael and see if that will shake Dean back into control. As long as Michael doesn't get the upper hand…
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Michael/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	For Ye Are Yet Carnal

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from I Corinthians 3:3, because I still continue to get a kick out of titling Wincest fics from the Bible. This is definitely dubcon, of the possession variety.

"Sam, the wards in the dungeon are not likely to hold Michael for any longer than Dean's mental walls did. If we don't have him in the Ma'lak box by the time they break—"

"I'm not putting my brother in that box." Sam glared at Castiel. "I don't care what it takes."

"Do you have other ideas? Because we were counting on Dean to keep Michael secure inside of his head, but that obviously didn't last. Perhaps if there was some way to shock Dean back into taking control, it would make it clear that we haven't given up on him."

"I do have one idea." Sam stared down at the floor, wondering if he could even voice it aloud to Castiel.

"What is it?" Castiel demanded.

Sam took a deep breath and looked up. "I don't think you're going to like it. Hell, I don't think I even like it. But it might be the only way to save Dean."

A couple of hours later, Sam was ready to go and feeling only slightly nauseous. Castiel had been momentarily stunned at Sam's plan, but he had concluded that it had some probability of success. That was about all they could hope for right now, so here he was, slipping into the dungeon with his heart beating wildly for more than one reason.

Michael was chained to the chair in the center of the room with the angel cuffs, wearing that supercilious look that Sam wanted to punch right off of his face. He knew Dean wouldn't even begrudge it, but that wasn't what he was here for.

"Hello, Sam. Here to say goodbye to your brother?"

A chill ran down Sam's spine. That was so close to what he had come here to say that he wondered if Michael had somehow overheard their planning. "Wh—what do you mean?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "We both know you can't hold me for long. I broke your brother, and soon I'll break my way out of here. And then I'll enjoy breaking every bone in your body while he watches from inside."

Sam lifted his chin. "That's not going to happen."

"Suuuuuure, Jan."

Sam rolled his eyes. "We're going to lock you away somewhere you can never escape."

"No, you're not. You're not going to sacrifice your brother like that. I've heard plenty about the two of you. How you always put each other first, even if it means letting the world burn." Michael tilted his head to the side. "I have to admit, I like your style. But it also means you're not going to touch me."

Sam tried to put just the right amount of suggestiveness into his tone without going over the top. "Not like that, at least."

Sam waited for a moment, watching as the light of curiosity entered Michael's eyes. "Are you propositioning me, Sammy?"

He hung his head, letting shame turn his cheeks pink. "I've never told Dean. It's something I've wanted for a long time, but I knew he would never let me. I thought maybe with you…I could at least pretend."

"Sam, Sam, Sam." Michael's mock scolding sounded positively gleeful. "What would your brother say if he knew how much you wanted his cock?"

"He'd hate it." Sam lifted his head, sure his face was flaming red. "But he'll never know, will he?"

"So tell me, what would I get out of this arrangement? Because I'm not letting you ride for free."

Tilting his head to the side, Sam said, "Come on. I've seen how you look at me. Threatening to rip me apart with your bare hands? Wanting to be up close and personal? You're not as disinterested as you claim to be."

Michael stared at him for a moment. Then he threw his head back with a bark of laughter that sounded so much like Dean it made Sam's heart hurt. "Well, you are not as dumb as you look after all!"

Sam gave him a glare in response.

Michael was still chuckling. "So how do we do this? Because I'm a little tied up here." He gave Sam a sly look. "Or is that how you want your big brother?"

Sam hated that he was starting to get hard at the thought. "I'm not letting you out of those cuffs."

"All right then." Michael leaned back, spreading his legs wide in the chair. "Guess that means you're gonna have to do all the work."

Sam came forward, hands going to the buttons on his shirt. "Can you, um. Close your eyes?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "And miss all the fun? You've got to be kidding."

Sam had expected that, but he had to ask. He quickly shrugged out of his shirt and jeans, standing before Michael in red plaid boxers. That earned him another smirk as he started in on the dress shirt and slacks Michael had dressed himself in.

Sam's fingers were trembling as he pushed aside the fabric of the shirt, baring Michael's—no, bearing Dean's chest. He ran his hands over it, enjoying the feel of the firm skin that he only touched when patching wounds or binding up sprains. His fingers brushed both nipples at once, and Michael shifted slightly in his chair.

Sam was going to take that as a good sign, as Dean's body reacting to his touch. He took a moment to roll Dean's nipples between his fingers, watching how they swelled and reddened slightly. It was too much to resist, and he dropped to his knees to take one into his mouth, licking and sucking and lightly scraping his teeth, smiling to himself when he heard a bitten-off groan come from Dean's throat.

He glanced up and it felt like a bucket of cold water to see Michael's blue eyes staring down at him. "Nice to know you're considerate with the foreplay, Sam. But let's get on with the show, hmm?"

Grimacing, Sam unbuckled Michael's belt and unzipped his pants. Michael lifted his hips, and Sam slid everything off and onto the floor. He was half-erect—apparently the nipple play had at provoked some kind of reaction. Sam could work with that.

Closing his eyes, Sam leaned forward and lapped at the head of Dean's cock, tasting the smooth flesh on his tongue. This was where he most wanted to pretend, to breathe in deep as he took in more and more of Dean, feeling him grow along the roof of Sam's mouth, taking in that musky scent he associated with laundromats and the back seat of the Impala and way too many years spent wishing he could have his brother like this.

Sam was straining against his boxers now, and he figured Dean was fully erect after Sam's mouth on him. So he stood up and shimmied out of his underwear, reaching down to pull a condom out of his jeans pocket.

"Don't want to feel your big brother skin-on-skin?"

Sam ripped open the condom packet. "I don't know where you've taken him or what you've done with him."

"So cautious. Ironic, given how you're playing with fire here."

Sam ignored him as he slid the condom on. His heart was pounding, arousal throbbing through him at the taste still in his mouth, anticipation making his breath come fast. He straddled Michael's lap and, gripping the base of his cock, slowly sank downwards.

It was a lot to take, even though Sam had prepped himself before entering the room. Dean was a big guy, maybe even disproportionately big. Sam's thighs were straining as he lowered himself downwards, eyes closed, concentrating on relaxing and opening himself up. This was Dean inside of him, just like he'd always wanted, and the gloriousness of that was enough for a moment to override the wrongness of exactly what he was doing and the desperate hope that was behind it.

When he was all the way down, Sam relaxed into it, knowing this was where it was going to get difficult. He had what he'd always wanted—but he had to count on Dean not wanting it. He had to stimulate Dean's body enough to bring him back up to the surface and fight Michael off, make him think that he was doing something Sam didn't want. The fact that it was all Sam had ever wanted and that he could never really have it was beside the point.

Before he could make a move, though, the ground lurched under him.

His eyes flew open in time to realize he was falling backwards, Michael having launched himself upwards with the chair still chained to his back. Sam slid off his cock as he hit the concrete floor with a thud, dull pain suddenly replacing anticipated pleasure.

Then, to his horror, Michael flexed his arms, and the wooden chair burst into splinters. Grinning at Sam, he climbed over his cuffed hands so they were now in front of him, and then he landed on top of Sam, forcing the air out of his lungs with a whoosh.

Sam was still trying to draw in air when Michael lifted his legs and thrust back into him so hard that Sam skidded back along the floor. Sam tried to braced himself against the concrete, but Michael's eyes were glowing blue, and he found his arms splayed out helplessly from his sides, legs bent double as Michael pounded into him.

"This what you wanted, Sammy?" he growled as he bent closer to Sam. "Big brother holding you down and making you take it?" His cuffed hands were braced on Sam's chest, and he pinched a nipple hard, on his next thrust.

Sam cursed and tried to twist away, but he couldn't move. Whatever spells Bobby had added to the cuffs were failing, and Michael's power was holding him securely to the ground. This wasn't going anything like what he had planned. Gritting his teeth, he fought to get out from under Michael's power.

In the meantime, Michael was slamming into him again and again, the rough floor abrading his back with each thrust. "You were right, Sam. This was such a good idea." He gave a more leisurely roll of his hips followed by a hard thrust that was almost painful. "And the best part? Dean woke up."

Sam looked up, heart in his throat. "No," he whispered.

"Oh, yes. He's been hiding in a corner since I broke out, feeling all sorry for himself. Might have hurt his ego a bit to know that he couldn't keep me down. Imagine him coming to and finding himself balls deep in his little brother." Michael leaned back into a kneeling position, dragging Sam forward so his legs were draped over Michael's thighs, arms up over his head. The chain between the cuffs was just long enough that he could grip both of Sam's hips at once, and he did that as he punched in again, letting out a long, satisfied groan. "Oh yeah. I can do this all night, Sam. Move you around however I want you. Take you as many times as I want, as many ways as I want. All the while knowing your brother is watching and learning that you belong to me. Now and for however long I decide to keep you."

"No." Sam twitched his head to the side, the tiny movement all he was allowed to make. "I belong to Dean. Now and for always."

The corner of Michael's lip turned up in a sneer. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for me not to stop. You have no idea what you've done by entering this room, Sam."

Deep down, Sam was terrified that he was right. But he glared back at Michael with everything he had and said, "You're wrong."

"Is that the best you can do?" Michael lifted Sam's hips and somehow plunged in deeper.

He was hitting Sam's prostate with every stroke, but Sam clenched his jaw and fought down the arousal shivering through his body in response. This wasn't Dean. This wasn't everything Sam had ever wanted. It was a losing bet, a desperate chance Sam had taken that had gone horribly wrong, and if he was extremely lucky, it wouldn't mean the end of the world.

He stared into Michael's eyes, willing Dean to see him. "C'mon, Dean," he whispered even as his body shook. "I'm here. I'm right here."

"Oh, he knows," Michael smirked. "He's right here and he—"

He faltered on his next thrust, hands tightening on Sam's hips.

Instantly, Sam fought to bring his hands down from where they were pinioned above his head. If both of them were fighting Michael at once, it would divide his attention and make him weaker. Sam put everything he had into it, a fierce grin spreading across his face as he brought his arms down to his sides and started to lift himself to a sitting position.

Michael's eyes grew so intensely blue that Sam had to look away. Behind closed eyelids, he saw a flash of white light, and then the room went almost dark.

When Sam cracked his eyes open, it was Dean looking back at him.

Dean, hands gripping Sam's hips, cock buried deep inside him, triumph and confusion and fear flashing across his face in lightning succession. "Sammy?" he whispered.

Sam pushed himself upright, leaning on his hands. "Dean? Is he gone?"

"He's not gone, but he's locked away again. Found another room to push him into. Sam, what did he—" Dean looked down, horror dawning on his face. "What did he do to you?"

"Only what I asked him to," Sam whispered. The shame was rising in him now, hot and strong and bitter, but he had to make Dean understand that it wasn't in any way his fault.

"I don't understand." Dean's eyes were wide and scared.

"I thought—I know you don't want this." Sam nodded down at where they were still joined, somehow afraid to remind Dean in case he pulled out and Sam lost him for good. "But I—I do. I have, for a long time. He didn't force me, Dean."

"What the hell, Sam? You thought you'd just take me for a ride while he was in control?"

"No! Dean, it wasn't that, please. It was just—I had to find some way to get through to you. And I thought that if you sensed what was going on with your body, and that you realized it was me at the other end, that you'd fight. That because you don't want this, you'd kick him out. And you did."

Dean looked down at him for a long moment, and Sam stared back with the best pleading gaze he could manage. This was it, the one part of the plan that could completely blow up in his face. Castiel had tried to warn him, had told him that he might well save Dean at the cost of their relationship. Sam had tried to prepare for that, but seeing the storm of emotions in Dean's eyes, he was terrified.

When Dean finally spoke, it was in a low growl that Sam had never heard before. "What makes you think I don't want this?"

Sam stared at him, his heart skipping a beat. "You do?"

"Sam, I—" Dean lifted his hands, the gesture made even more helpless by the cuffs still on his wrists. "I can't want my little brother. I have to protect him. Watch out for him. Keep him safe. Not fuck him up with how dirty I am."

"Dean." Sam leaned closer, a wild hope suddenly lifting his spirits. "Dean, it's okay. I want it too. I've wanted it for a really long time."

"Sam, I—" Dean slowly reached out, hands cupping Sam's face, the handcuff chain jingling lightly. He looked deep into Sam's eyes, and Sam let him look, pouring his heart into his gaze.

Then Dean pulled him closer, and Sam leaned eagerly upward as their mouths met.

It was fierce and protective and loving and arousing. It was everything Sam had always thought kissing Dean would be, everything he loved best about his brother all wrapped up in the press of mouth on mouth, the heat of their lips sliding past each other and the careful touch of Dean's hands on his face and unmistakable scent of leather and gun oil and Dean wafting around and over him, sharpened with the tang of arousal.

When Dean drew back, Sam braced his hands on the ground and angled his hips towards him, putting a challenge in his eyes.

To his delight, Dean grinned back at him. "Should've known you'd be a brat here, too."

This time, when arousal soared inside of him, Sam let it in. When Dean's fingers curled around his hips, Sam arched back and let his mouth fall open, watching Dean's hungry gaze on his lips. Dean was careful to angle his thrusts so they hit Sam just right, and soon they were moving in tandem like any hunt, pushing and pulling and sending each other higher, eyes locked on each other and skin flushing pink and pupils darkening and breath coming faster and faster—

Sam waited, poised right on the edge, until he saw Dean's eyes darken and mouth drop open. Then he let go, clenching around Dean, soaring over the edge, body shaking as he streaked both of their skin. Dean was right there with him, thrusting deep inside him, back arching as he came.

To Sam's relief, Castiel didn't ask any questions about how Dean had managed to lock Michael back up again. And to Sam's surprise, it was Dean who came to his room that night and said they should talk. By the time they were done talking—and, at Dean's sly insistence, going for another round to make sure they were both on the same page—Sam was as exhausted as he'd ever been.

But he was also falling asleep beside Dean, naked limbs still entwined, warm and secure and with something he never thought he'd have. They hadn't yet dealt with Michael permanently, and there was still no damn way he was letting Dean get in that box. Especially now.

But they would find another way. They always did.


End file.
